


I Will Lead You

by Mintstream



Series: Penny Parker Febuwhump 2021 [11]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Blindness, Female Peter Parker, Gen, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintstream/pseuds/Mintstream
Summary: Punch after punch.Swing after swing.Clash after clash.The heat of enraged battle broke through the cold of the Siberian bunker, just as angry red as the man saw. His entire vision was clouded with unending rage that flowed through his entire self, all the way to his bright blue chest and metal coated arms. He couldn't think of anything but retribution and revenge as he managed to fight Rogers off, Friday leading him.Day 18: "I can't see"
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Penny Parker Febuwhump 2021 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114535
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	I Will Lead You

Punch after punch.

Swing after swing.

Clash after clash.

The heat of enraged battle broke through the cold of the Siberian bunker, just as angry red as the man saw. His entire vision was clouded with unending rage that flowed through his entire self, all the way to his bright blue chest and metal coated arms. He couldn't think of anything but retribution and revenge as he managed to fight Rogers off, Friday leading him.

Tony shot him against the ground, a quick blast rendering to his knees. Behind him Barnes lay on his back, bleeding and vulnerable to the world. His metal arm glinted, a thousand lost souls taken by that arm. His mom among them.

Steve looked up at him with gasping breaths, defiance in his blue eyes, "He's my friend."

Tony fixed the man with a hard stare, brokenness beyond his copper eyes. Nothing less than destroyed rage and grief burned, surrounded by bloody cuts the same red as his armor. "So was I."

Iron Man punched him, grabbing the back of the dark blue suit and throwing the man against the nearest pillar. He knocked against it, landing on the ground beside the stone with a heavy thud, landing among the snow.

"Stay down. Final warning."

Steve struggles to his feet, biding his time as one knee trembled after the other. Two fists rose, framing a bloody, ignorantly defiant face.

"I can do this all day."

Tony raises an arm, a whine against his hand, when a hand clutches against his boot, the metal crunching underneath. He changes targets, switching and turning, kicking Barnes as hard as he could. Hands grasp his armor immediately, throwing him up in the air and keeping him there. Tony tries to power up his last working boot in time, but he's already been clunked against the ground.

He feels a crack against his head as metal from the suit is forced up behind him, digging painfully into his skull. Steve is on him in an instant, a rain of punches coming down against his metal face. _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ goes his fist.

_Crash! Crash! Crash!_ goes the shield against his face.

His helmet--his protection--his smashed open. Steve raises his shield, a tide towards the sky, he flashes up his hands in terror, the familiar blue whine starting.

The shield crashes down against his hands, which turn inward at the force and it's too late. The repulsors shot directly at his face. The world went white, gray, then black. There was another crash against his reactor, the suit powering down with a mournful whine. The last thing he heard was the clatter of the shield against the ground.

The whole time, none of the three men saw the frightened girl, crouched in the corner of a ceiling, trembling.

* * *

The world came to with a freezing gust of wind, followed by a muttered, "Shit," and scuffled scrambling as a body shifted. He let out an unwilling, low groan, blinking open his eyes. He found resistance at a cloth wrapped around the top of his head, leaving him completely surrounded by nothingness. He jerked his head up immediately at the cloth, swinging his head around and trying to force himself to his limbs with wild failure.

Why was there something around his eyes? Had he been kidnapped again? Where was Steve? How long--

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark you're okay! ...Sorta. But--please stop moving, you're hurt."

He froze at the voice, stopping his struggling and instead turning to face where he thought the figure might be. It _couldn't_ be. No way the kid had made her way here, unnoticed and without anyone noticing.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he snarled immediately, defensive. He could feel her flinch.

"Um, so--please don't be mad--during the fight, I managed to get onto that plane that Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes were in and they didn't notice me, so that was cool, when they landed I waited and then left and then you all started fighting and I didn't know what to do an I'm really sorry that I didn't--"

"Stop talking," he ordered. Parker shut up immediately, her jaw clicking audibly and deep breaths forcing their way in. She hadn't taken a breath her entire ramble, and if he weren't so worried about _every-fucking-thing else,_ he would've checked on her. As it was, he was humiliated and broken. This kid had followed him here, witnessed one of his worst defeats, and had sat beside his unconscious body for who knows how long. He was in his weakest moment, and he was exposed. "How long have I been out?"

"An--an hour, sir."

He didn't bother to tell her not to call him 'sir.' He didn't have the energy. "What with the cloth around my head?"

"Your eyes looked really damaged, the back of your head too. I found a med kit and did the best I could. Sorry."

"Great. Has the suit turned on at all?"

"No, sir."

He sighed, "Come get this cloth off of me and then get me out of the suit. We'll need to call a Quinjet."

"Yes, sir."

He heard the girl pad over, and he lifted his head from where he lay a dead weight on the ground, allowing for the girl to roll the medical wrap off of his head and away from his eyes. He blinked open in relief, expecting to see the dark interior of the Siberian bunker, littered with old tech and gusts of snow, but instead finding...nothing.

He squinted.

"Did all the lights turn off? I can't see a thing."

There was a hesitant pause, and then a stuttered, "I made a fire, Mr. Stark. It's two feet away."

He turned, searching for the heat and squinting harder. Where was the light?

He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing down fear. He could break down in the seclusion of his own lab, when nothing and no one could stop him from destroying everything in his sight, preferably accompanied by bottle of golden, scorching whiskey.

"Just get me out of the suit, kid," he rasped, "Don't bother about ripping anything. I just need to send a message."

"You're sure?" she hesitated.

"Just do it."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Penny huddled near the fire she'd made after she'd dragged Mr. Stark away from where Mr. Rogers had knocked him out. The area had been too windy, and one glance at his pale, bloody face had told her he needed to be warm. She could at least try and do that for him, not that the man seemed to care much about her futile attempts to help.

Mr. Stark sat across from her, his back turned and focused on the torn red and gold armor. He kept fiddling with something that sparked blue, always making him flinch, curse, suck his burned finger and then turn back to whatever he was trying to do anyway. She didn't quite understand why he was so insistent on doing it by himself. She'd already offered her hands for the project, since he couldn't see at the moment--it was just for the moment, right? But his eyes looked silver and overcast, as if all color and ability had been sapped from them--but he'd snapped at her and only huddled closer to the suit.

Penny reluctantly cleared her throat, stuttering, "Mr--Mr. Stark, are you sure you don't want any help?"

Mr. Stark paused. Another spark of blue crackled among the suit. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine. Get over here, but don't touch anything I don't tell you too. Got it?"

She nodded, then remembering he couldn't see her, she said, "Yes, Mr. Stark, sir."

"Don't call me sir," he muttered as she kneeled beside him. He tensed painfully as she did. "Okay, I want you to look for a resistor."

"Okay."

"This isn't your regular, nineties computer resistor, kid. This one will be a lot different. It's more heavy in the middle--"

"--Too block the flow better? I bet the arc reactor overloads your suit a lot," she guessed, despite the cold seeping into her skin, she was excited to be working on an Iron Man suit. She then realized she'd interrupted the billionaire. Clearing her throat again nervously, she muttered, "Sorry. I'll shut up."

"It's fine, kid. I could use the conversation," Mr. Stark amended. She blinked in surprise.

The two worked on the suit for a good twenty minutes, Mr. Stark identifying what she needed to find, occasionally demonstrating with his hand what she was meant to do when she did, and chattering mindlessly. It was a weird way to spend the night, but she didn't mind that much.

By the time they'd sent out a message, the fire Penny had lit with some flares and fuel she'd found in a fire kit had begun to die. She'd shiver if she could, but of course, spiders didn't. Her lips were astonishingly blue and her face whiter than snow. Mr. Stark wasn't fairing much better, but looked considerably more comfortable with his normal body that could thermoregulate and a torn suit jacket.

Somehow--don't ask her how--the jacket ended up wrapped around the two of them as they huddled for warmth next to the dying remains of the fire.

* * *

Visual impairment. Possibly permanent. That was the verdict the doctors in Germany gave him. And the ones in New York. Japan. Korea. The Netherlands. Everywhere.

Tony wouldn't see again. Bested by his own invention and an obnoxious blond betrayer, but aided by a devoutly loyal copper haired girl. That's what his first doctor had said anyway. If his wounds hadn't been cleaned as quick as they were, he could be completely blind. As it was, his vision was impaired so that words, no matter how close or far, made no sense, and everything was little more than a dewy blur.

Everything was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It made him dizzy with fear and thanks to the kid that had accompanied him for no damn reason other than that she was stupidly brave and good.

Still, he refused to stop inventing, to stop fighting, and to stop helping. With the help of Penny and Friday, he had new braces for Rhodey, and was working on glasses and operations that might help him see again. That was still pretty up in the air, but Rhodey managed to cling to his arm as the two walked around a room.

A couple of broken old losers led by a chirpy teenager.

"It's just the first pass," Tony assured as they stumbled along. 

"Yeah," Rhodey grunted.

"Give me some feedback," he asked. Penny chirped in.

"Yeah! Shock absorption? Lateral movement? Cup holder?"

Rhodey huffed a laugh at the girl's suggestion. Tony imagined his smile was bright. "You may wanna think about some AC down in..."

There was a topple and a burst of movement as Rhodey clattered to the ground. Both he and Penny let out little gutters of alarm as the man dropped like a sack of rocks. A blur he thought was Penny held out a hand, and Tony kneeled down in the direction he thought his friend was in.

"No, no, don't. Don't help me. Don't help me. A hundred thirty-eight. A hundred thirty-eight combat missions. That's how many I've flown, Tony and newly acquired kid. Every one of them could've been my last, but I flew 'em. Because the fight needed to be fought. It's the same with these Accords. I signed because it was the right thing to do. And, yeah, this sucks. This is...this is a bad beat. But it hasn't change my mind, and we'll get through it."

"Of course we will, Rhodes," Tony agreed, squinting and trying to make out his friend standing back up. Frustration bubbled underneath his skin, but he refused to let it simmer. "We've got some new blood to make fun of."

There was a knock. They all turned. A scraggly old voice asked, "Are you... Tony Stank?"

There were giggles and gasping laughs.

"What were you saying, Mr. Stark?"

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i liked this idea so much but i did NOT follow through. might try and do a longer story on this concept later lmao, we'll see


End file.
